


Story of Venus

by buckysstars



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Astronomy, Background Character Death, Childhood Friends, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, New Year's Eve, New Years, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-19 09:56:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22109068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckysstars/pseuds/buckysstars
Summary: The night has been kind. Steve stumbles, skirting a wide berth of the stores closed for the night, lined along the city street with chairs scattered around. The lamps reflect off the snow and to all the surfaces and basks everything in a glow. A chuckle is threatening to spill from his throat but he will not dare chuckle in front of Natasha right now.Wherein: the Cap family spends New Year's Eve, a snow-filled night in Central Park, empty streets, unexpected feelings coming up as they help Steve navigate through the grieving process of their first Christmas without Sarah Rogers.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	Story of Venus

**Author's Note:**

> this is a commission for eve!!!! thank you so much for this commission and your idea of the cap quartet at a park at night. modern au setting where the cap family grew up together. enjoy!! trigger warning: mentions of alcohol! please be careful

The night has been kind. Walking under the new-fallen snow and the stars; you can see a glimpse of the Milky Way last the street lamps. There are few footprints in the snow, the new snowflakes erasing all signs of precious people walking. It’s the emptiest they’ve ever seen the landscape.

Steve stumbles, skirting a wide berth of the stores closed for the night, lined along the city street with chairs scattered around. The lamps reflect off the snow and to all the surfaces and basks everything in a glow. A chuckle is threatening to spill from his throat but he will not _dare_ chuckle in front of Natasha right now. She’s a foot shorter than him, and is tiny next to him but will not hesitate to speak her mind and pull on his ear when he acts out. It’s dark out, but only as dark as a city will ever allow, the only light sources are the blinding street lamps that cast shadows from the small snowflakes fleeting from the sky. Steve safely turtles his face into his quarter-zip sweater with a fuzzy inside, a warm layer Bucky made him wear tonight. 

They have been strolling through the New Year’s Eve snow, it’s been a steady fleet for the last hour and it’s beginning to stick to the ground and their clothing. If they’re 4 tipsy adults strolling through New York, well, at least they have each other. 

They’re a group of adults, all have gone through tribulations in the lifetime, who have recently grown closer to each other. Maybe this night solidified their bond, something that was already there but they weren’t quite sure. Maybe Steve is just drunk, but he swears he’s never felt this close with anyone in his life. Well, at least outside of his Ma, Sarah. 

Natasha’s fiery red hair is beautiful in the city at night, a red amber under the golden street lamp. Steve reaches over to her hair under her hard-knit beanie hat with a pom-pom, threading his fingers through her shoulder length hair. She swats at his hand, smiling but scoffs and stays quiet. She laughs, her warm breath steaming in the cold air. Steve mimics her, breathing out incessantly, chuckling with his mouth open. “You’re ridiculous, you know that, Rogers?”

“Am not,” Steve tried to talk with an open mouth, tilting his head back. He breathes out heavily, staring at his hot breath in the snowy air. This shouldn’t be this funny.

“God dammit, Steve,” Bucky reaches over with the end of his sleeve to wipe drool off the corner of Steve’s mouth, the three of them breaking out into laughter. It echoes through the neighborhood they’re in, laughter embedded with snow.

“Is Mama Bear Bucky really wiping _spit_ off of Steve’s face?” Sam retorts, voice pitching and Natasha jabs him in the side. “What? We should go all mama bear on Steve, this is the first time I’ve ever seen him drink.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, turning his attention back to Bucky. He can’t talk about family right now, especially about his mom, any sort of joke coming up. And for him drinking, well, Bucky doesn’t say anything either. He has to admit the admission of worry about Steve made his heart feel tender in his chest, his body fidgeting. They _did_ drag him out tonight so he wouldn’t spend it moping by himself. They walk at a leisurely pace, picking up their pace once Bucky finally tore himself away from Steve’s face hesitantly. 

Natasha had to drag him, Sam, and Bucky out of the New Year’s Eve party early. And, well, if they had something to drink, so did everyone else there. They’re just a few drunk adults roaming the city.

Steve has consistently experienced relationships and friendships between two people— no more than that. He wouldn’t say he grew up stunted in relationships, it’s just the card he dealt. The comfort he relished in, the normalcy of having one person to rely on. His _person_ . His father passed away when Steve was a young child. Steve was fairly young, loathed in memories of abuse by his father. Maybe tonight is the night he will blurt out his life story he kept from them; admission off the tip of his tongue that rolls off with ease. Because he feels _safe_ around Bucky, Sam, and Natasha.

Natasha shoots Steve a look, “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Steve smiles, a feeling of happiness emanating from inside. He hadn’t realized he kept sharing glances between the three of them. He’s too dazed to think right now. He _loves_ them all so much. He grew up with them, they’ve been best friends since childhood, but recently, _best friends._ He’s not quite sure what has changed; maybe it has to do with the fact that he recently lost his Ma. He and Bucky are finally together. They’re their own _people_ , a shoulder to lean on and Steve’s overwhelmed. He can’t imagine his life without them. “I love you guys so much.”

The corner of Natasha’s lips quirked up, along with a look, he can’t quite describe. It’s like a fondness, but he sees the worry in his eyes. He just _knows_ , he’s not crazy. Maybe she is angry at him for not telling her he isn’t okay, but he knows in the back of his mind that he is. He’s with his closest family. He could never embarrass himself and tell them out loud they’re a family, even if he knows it. They’re a family brought together; stars aligning in a constellation. Steve has always Bucky, Sam, and Natasha each have their own place in his own life, 

A playful groan is elicited from the group, the other three of them refusing to hear his admit of affection. Bucky and Sam continue to ramble on about God knows what, Natasha joining in with her own complaints. The four of them occasionally bump shoulders together on the small Manhattan sidewalk. Sure, they haven’t ever seen Steve drunk, _he’s not drunk he’s tipsy,_ but he wants to admit his undying love for them, a feeling like thunderous clouds in the sky, mixed in with pink and blue reflections, threatening to rage and it’s the most beautiful sight and feeling.

They end up sitting on some random stoop in Manhattan, directly outside of Central Park. Sam gathers some snow around before sitting down. Natasha sits nearby, bundled up in herself to keep out the cold. The trees sway with the wind, small mounds of snow dancing in the street. Bucky sits on the step below Steve, but Steve slowly clambers down a step, wrapping his legs around Bucky. Bucky doesn’t startle, but he tilts his head up, brow furrowed, inspecting Steve. Steve must be wearing a warm expression, because Bucky’s face softens. Steve can’t help but smile and lean forward, pressing a small kiss to his jawline. 

“What was that for?” Bucky asks, voice small and smoothe, full like velvet. Steve can’t get enough of it.

Smiling, Steve presses Bucky close and he obliged happily. Natasha peers over, smiling and turning back to Sam. Steve distractedly places his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, adjusting his sweater around his prosthetic. Steve rubs a small circle on Bucky’s abdomen. “You mean so much to me. I know Ma would be so happy.”

Bucky freezes, though he wasn’t moving very much, anyways. Steve can’t see his full face from this angle, but he peers out to Sam and Natasha on the sidewalk in front of them smiling. Steve’s eyes widen once he feels Bucky’s hands on his collars, gently, but forcefully cupping his cheek with his gloved hands and lowering his face. Bucky closes his eyes, hovering just an inch from his face. “This okay?”

Steve answers by letting out the breath through his nose he didn’t realize he was holding and pressing his lips against Bucky’s. He grips onto Bucky’s arm, tenderly placing a kiss to Bucky’s soft lips, even soft when chapped. They don’t deepen the kiss, they don’t need to. Steve’s heart is racing, he can feel his pulse in his ears. They break the kiss, Steve pecking his lips with smaller kisses. He cards his fingers through Bucky’s long hair, brushing the loose strand of hair that escaped from his half bun from his forehead. It’s such a tender act, leaving him feeling like he’s submerging in water under the warm sun. The bokeh of the sunshine rays dancing in the water, a blissful feeling that’s blinding.

They pulled away but stayed close to each other, Steve resting his head on Bucky’s right shoulder. Steve looked up before he was hit in the face by a snowball. 

Sam and Natasha laugh, the culprits; Steve feels like he’s on top of the world after kissing Bucky. Tonight is full of the warmest feeling he’s ever felt, flowing through his blood. Natasha smirks, Sam hugging her from her side while she wipes snow off her hands, “What’s wrong, Rogers?’

Steve glared at them, Bucky’s mouth hanging open, probably grateful he doesn’t have snow covering his bare face. “Oh? So, that’s how you two are gonna be?”

Bucky laughs, a sweet sound emanating from him, like nothing he’s done recently. Steve smiles so wide at him, like the sun, a beam. He didn’t think he could smile this wide and genuine; fuck Sam and Natasha for ruining this perfect moment when a looser ball of snow is thrown at the both of them. “Hey! You won’t get away with this!”

Natasha squeals, scraping for a quick patch of snow before running off and grabbing Sam’s hand. Sam is pulled forcefully but they run, Steve and Bucky smiling at each other. A plan is forming. “I bet they’re going to the bridge in Central Park. It’s just a couple of blocks away.”

Bucky nods, caught off guard once again when Steve reaches over to pull the hat out of Bucky’s pocket and back onto his head. “Buck, your ears are redder than Rudolf’s nose.”

Bucky snorts, “Come on. Let’s go get payback.” He grabbed his hand as they run down the steps and across the street to Central Park. Steve feels like a tn year old again, his Ma on their apartment stoop yelling behind them to be careful. But Steve runs, his lungs burning. He knows if he does have an asthma attack they _will_ be there to help him. His unwavering faith in them is real, he never wants to let this go.

This is how their snowball fight in Central Park almost at the dawn of New Years Eve begins. Bucky runs adjacent to Steve, hiding behind the nearest parked car. Steve clumsily runs behind a street lamp, out of breath from running and laughing. It’s a dazed feeling, mixed with the alcohol. It leaves him breathless, staring out into the street and park as he searches for his friends. It’s almost as if he’s fighting himself for feeling happiness right now; it’s his first Christmas and New Year’s without his Ma. 

Suppressing the guilt, he spots Natasha. He knows she’s waiting for him, She’s just that good; he could swear on his own life that she was a former spy. He just can’t _tell_ , she’s a fucking sweetheart that he adores and would die for, and knows she would do the same. She's always there for him, even if it’s shown through tough love. After his Ma died, Natasha was the first one to find out. She held him for hours, no hesitation in her gestures. They said nothing as the grief broke him down, and they _all_ helped rebuild Steve. He can feel his love for her building up, his love for all of them. Like it's going to spill out if he doesn’t do anything about it, if he doesn’t say anything. Maybe he didn’t say enough with his Ma.

Natasha runs over, squealing, and Steve is reeled back into reality. Maybe she does notice his inner turmoil; she never fails at being perceptive of anybody, and it seems like especially him. Natasha grabs the street lamp post to maneuver around Steve and away from Sam. Sam is infiltrated by a snowball from his left side. Bucky’s smirk reaches his eyes and Sam shakes his head. “Oh, hell no. Hell no, man. Not on my new jacket.”

Natasha huffed a sigh, turning back to him. “What are you so worried about, солнышко?” Natasha asks, reaching up to his face with her small cold hands to smooth furrow between his brows away. He’s so used to her Russian terms of endearment at this point, gentleness in her voice. If she calls him his sunshine boy, well, so be it.

“What are _you_ doing?” Steve asks, lips quirked up on one side. She smiles, squealing once Steve wraps his arms around her and lifts her slightly off the ground. “Payback is a bitch.”

“Steve,” she giggled breathlessly, and it’s times like this when they’re cuddling or hugging when Steve realizes how tiny Natasha really is. His fiercest friend, such a big soul in a small body. “You ass, it was all Sam. Not me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve laughs, setting Natasha down. They freeze, then begin to scrape up snow.

“Quick!” Natasha whispers, but yelps once Sam slams her in the arm with a snowball. Sam turns the other way immediately once he sees the two snowballs in Natasha’s small hands.

“Okay! Okay!” Sam surrenders, kneeling over from exhaustion; most likely about to faint from all the alcohol. Sam is red from pure exhaustion, having just chased Bucky around central park. Steve snorts, and Bucky pulls Steve to his side. “Sam got me good. I think my ass cheek is gonna be red.”

Steve peers over his shoulder, laughing once Bucky nudges him _hard_ in the rib cage. “I swear, you can have a look later. Not now, Rogers. I swear.” Bucky’s eyes glint with fondness, a twinkle from the snow on the ground reflecting light. Sam and Natasha walk over, Nat tucked in under Sam’s arm. And it’s so endearing, Steve is reminded how much his friends care for each other. Sam nods towards the park, “Come on; let’s go look at the lake. Let’s go find ducks.”

The three of them burst into laughter, Natasha ducking her head in his chest. “You really think _anything_ , even ducks will be out now, Sam?” Sam snorts, reaching over to drag Steve and Bucky to their sides. Steve wraps an arm around Sam, Natasha squished in between them. The four of them pull each other close, walking in a clumsy line towards the water. 

Almost midnight, the four of them drop on the bench, fatigue catching up to them. They aren’t kids anymore; maybe they’ll never be those same kids again. The love will never be the same, but Steve knows this. Because on nights like tonight, the four of them holding each other quietly on some bench in Central Park, their bond is secure. As secure as the constellations, 4 stars in this one.

“Steve?” Sam’s voice is small. He turns his gaze from the water, the snow beside it pink and the water black with white light. His cheek rests against the top of Nat’s head, but she doesn’t mind. “Hm?”

Bucky is tucked in on Steve’s exposed side, threading his arm around Steve and reaching over to Natasha. Okay, if Bucky reaches to hold Natasha’s hand, Steve will admit his heart swells in adoration for his best friends. Each of them fit together like a puzzle piece. Sam continues,“Not to be a sap here, but I’ve never seen you smile like you did tonight.”

Steve flushes, but Natasha nods in agreement. “It’s why he’s my sunshine boy.” The three of them break into a lazy laughter, hot breaths foggy in the air. “Thank you guys for dragging me out tonight. I know I’ve been holding you guys down recently, and—”

“Man, don’t even finish that sentence,” Sam cuts him off with no heat behind his words. Sam grabs the back of his neck, grounding him and keeping him from drifting to more thoughts of his guilt. His grieving has been hard on all of them and he is very much aware of this. Their patience was definitely tested, Steve’s been called stubborn at least three times today. “You know Sarah, Ma, is here with you. You can be happy now.”

Steve nods, his face hot. Bucky must sense a difference in his breathing pattern, because he’s just _that good_ , and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek. “You okay, baby?” his voice gentle, like an angel whispering to him. Steve sniffles, desperately holding back his tears but they cling to his eyelashes. “I’m okay.” Bucky gently wipes the tears from his eyelashes with the pads of his thumb, then goes back to burying his head on his shoulder.

Natasha maneuvers through their limbs and grabs his hand. “You wanna talk about it? It’s okay, bubba.”

“Actually, yeah,” he pauses, the hurt fleeing. “I feel okay tonight. I really do.” Maybe it’s the act of his family telling him it’s okay, it solidifies the idea, now a reality. “If Ma knew we were out here, she’d really be mad at us.”

The four of them break out into a genuine laughter, snowflakes falling from the sky again. They stare up, sighing. “Remember when Mama Sarah would gather us up in the bedroom, turn the lights off, and put us by the window to show us the stars?” Bucky asks, the four of them looking up at the snow. “Yeah, and that same night she did that she yelled at us so we hid in the pillow fort,” Sam laughs, the three of them laughing too. Steve rubs Natasha’s knuckles, her hands cold. “But, she did feel bad and made us hot chocolate with _extra_ marshmallows,” Natasha turns to all of them, smiling.

“Okay, Steve, look past all of these stupid fucking snowflakes,” Bucky begins, gently grabbing his face and raising his and Natasha’s hands to point to the sky while they all laugh at the inconvenience of the snow in their faces. “Like I said, past all of this snow, it’s Venus in the sky. And I _know_ it is, it’s not some random planet.” Steve grinned, looking up at the sky and he swears he _can_ see at least one star up there. “Sarah is up in the stars, too. I know she’s watchin’ over all of us,” Bucky shyly mutters, not returning Steve’s gaze. “Venus was her favorite, I remember.”

Steve filled with an ache, snow delicately shrouding the four of them. The new snowfall erases all signs of footsteps, a sense of uncertainty that he is finally okay with. Watch the snow drift, wishing he could see the stars. The insignificant tension in the air breaks between them, a mellow mood settles over them despite their environment. They _do_ know his endless secrets, they can see past him, his joys, and he knows theirs. Their hands are on his shoulders, neck; their night isn’t full of immediacy to figure out what is going to happen next.

Sam brings his phone out, pinging with notifications. He huffs a breath, smiling wide. “Happy New Years.”

Steve’s arms are surrounded in goosebumps, they’re all breathless and wish each other a happy New Year. Steve feels Bucky’s soft hands on his face, it’s adorable how excited he is to give him a New Year’s kiss, nose red from the cold, and next he’s pulling him to a kiss that’s endless. For now, it’s brushing their lips together, Steve leaning forward into the kiss.

Bucky chuckles in their kiss, a feeling Steve wants to memorize. Their eyes so close together, Steve searching his and seeing him gleam with joy. They kiss again, warm and slow, Bucky eyeing Sam and Nat while they peck each other’s cheeks, foreheads, and Sam kisses Natasha’s nose. It’s an unbelievable feeling, a new year, a new year without his Ma. Sam promised to share his own family, too, like they’ve always done. With shared life experiences between the four of them, a platonic intimate feeling between Steve can't describe but he wants to live in it forever.

Maybe Bucky’s right; maybe his Ma is roaming in the stars. Maybe Ma is guiding him, and he knows her stars by heart. His star now in the sky, he knows her

**Author's Note:**

> like, comment, and subscribe, tweet me @buckysstars. f you would also like to support, my ko-fi is buckysstars as well. ko-fi.com/buckysstars i am currently taking commissions. thank you so much for reading, i wanted to write a comforting holiday fic during my own shitty holidays without one of my family members i lost a few months ago. love you thank you!!


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